


jealousy

by hyacinthis



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Child Abuse, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Grooming, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Mentions of the Regent, Nicaise and Laurent parallels, Other, Parallels, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, oof this one hurt real bad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-23 01:44:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20884115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyacinthis/pseuds/hyacinthis
Summary: “I get it.” Nicaise says, sliding his ring back onto his finger. “I get it.”He crosses his arms, staring at the blonde. It looks could kill, Laurent would be dead. But he just continues his work, paying Nicaise no mind.“You’re jealous.” Nicaise sneers.





	jealousy

**Author's Note:**

> THIS ONE HURT TO WRITR AND IM SO SORRY FOR YALL READING

“What are you doing?” 

Laurent looks up from all the maps and books spread out on the table in front of him, still leaning on it with both hands. 

“I’m working.” He responds. “What are _you_ doing?”

“Bothering you, obviously. I’ve no one to pay attention to me.”

“I doubt that.”

“It’s true. Why else would I be in here? You’re absolutely no fun and you haven’t the slightest bit of humor.”

“Thank you, Nicaise, but I’m working on something rather important right now.”

“More important than me?”

“It’s very important.”

“What is it?”

“Nothing I can tell you.”

“Hmmph.” Nicaise crosses his arms over his chest and pouts. 

“You’re more than welcome to stay, I’m just a tad bit busy right now.”

Nicaise finds himself a loveseat to sit on and quietly crosses his legs, staring down at his pale thighs. Laurent looks back down at his work, but now he can’t think. Nicaise clicks his tongue, looking around Laurent’s library.

“Where is he anyways?” Laurent asks without looking up.

“Who?” Nicaise tilts his head.

“You know who.”

“I’m not sure. He left early this morning, he said he wouldn’t be back for a few days.”

“Mm.” Laurent has a feeling he knew where he was. Laurent knew about the vacations to the fort in Aqcuitart. 

“Did you see the gifts he gave me?”

“What gifts?”

Nicaise stands and walks over to Laurent. He pulls himself up onto his table and sits on it, crossing his legs once again. Nicaise adjusts his hair before taking the small, chain tiara from his head. Gold and dangling with sapphires. It suits him, Laurent can’t deny it. He just hated that it came from his uncle.

“That’s very lovely Nicaise.”

“I know.” He places it back on, adjusting his hair accordingly. “But look,” he points to a thick, diamond studded choker around his neck. Gold plated, Laurent was sure it was real diamonds.

“Mm.”

“But wait, this one’s my favorite.” 

Nicaise holds up his left hand. Laurent is used to seeing rings on each one of his fingers, usually up to two or three, but he did immediately notice the new addition. A golden ring, a stark contrast to all the silvers on his fingers, adorned with a large sapphire in the middle and small crystals surrounding it.

“It’s got my name engraved in it and everything.” Nicaise brags, looking at the ring. 

Laurent stares at it for a long time, pushing some hair behind his ear. Nicaise watches him intently, blue eyes wide with interest, awaiting Laurent’s response.

“Why is he suddenly giving you all of these gifts?” Laurent asks.

“He always gives me gifts.” Nicaise answers with a pout.

“I mean the random surplus of gifts.”

“It’s my name day next week. I turn eleven.”

Laurent feels sick.

“And he wanted to celebrate the progress that I’ve made.”

Ah, the progress. Yes, Laurent remembers. He remembers the pet that threw tantrums, cried himself to sleep, and bit The Regent the first night he was bedded. He remembers the slave that hid behind pillars and other slaves, kept his face down, didn’t wear makeup or jewels, and didn’t speak when spoken to. He was… Work.

It was into his first year of being in the palace that he finally began to calm down and adjust. He spoke when spoken to, he woke up hours before the other slaves just to start on his makeup, stole any piece of jewelry he could find, and became The Regent’s prized pet, one he took practically everywhere with. 

Laurent didn’t respond, simply stared down at his maps.

“What do you think?”

“I think it’s gaudy.” Laurent answers nonchalantly. Nicaise recoils back, a few books falling from the table.

“What?”

“I’m sure you heard me.”

“It is not!” 

“Compared to all the other rings on your fingers, yes, it is.” He says. “You can’t have all these little silver things then one huge gold one. Its ugly, Nicaise.”

“It’s not! He made it specifically for me!” Nicaise took the ring off and showed it to him.

Sure enough, there was Nicaise’s name engraved in veretian and right under it the age he was turning. It made Laurent feel sick but, at the same time, a twinge of old jealousy churned inside of him. A type of jealousy that makes Laurent want to scrub his skin until it was raw or until he was numb. Maybe both.

“He didn’t make it, he got someone to make it for him.”

“Stop pointing out technicalities, you’re so annoying!”

“Yet, you’re in my library.”

Nicaise goes quiet, staring at him. He sticks his tongue out then hops off of Laurent’s table, pushing more papers and books off as he went.

“Then fine, I’ll leave you alone.” 

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I get it.” Nicaise says, sliding his ring back onto his finger. “I get it.”

He crosses his arms, staring at the blonde. It looks could kill, Laurent would be dead. But he just continues his work, paying Nicaise no mind.

“You’re jealous.” Nicaise sneers.

“I am _what?_” Laurent asks. He knows Nicaise is just looking for a rise, but Laurent can’t help it. That strikes a chord.

“You’re jealous!” Nicaise exclaims again. “You’re jealous because he loves me and not you, he gives me his attention because I’m worthy of it and you’re not! He loves me because I’m young and you’re too old.”

The words make Laurent’s skin crawl and he has to fight the urge to boil some water and crawl into it. 

“I am _not_ jealous, Nicaise, and he does _not_ love you the way you think he does.” Laurent answers lowly, looking back down to his work slowly.

“Yes he does! He gave me gifts and lets me sleep in his bed and… He loves me!”

Laurent doesn’t answer, just mindlessly practices some Akielon on a map in front of him, his hand trembling as it grips the quill. He feels dizzy and hot and sick. _I’m not jealous._ He thinks to himself. _I’m not jealous, I’m not jealous, I’m not. It’s a gaudy ring and a gaudy gift. Why would I be jealous? I hate him, he’s a disgusting pig._

“Do you hear me?” Nicaise asks, pulling Laurent from his thoughts. He doesn’t look up. “He loves me.”

“You’re not going to stay young forever, Nicaise.” Laurent says with a sigh.

“What?”

“I didn’t. What makes you think you will?”

“I’m not you, I’m different, I-“

“Nicaise, I think you should leave before I tell my uncle, that loves you oh so dearly, that you’re stirring up trouble in the court and disturbing my studies.”

Nicaise stares at Laurent, but Laurent still doesn’t look up. He just continues to write mindless sentences in Akielon on the map in front of him. _Save me_ and_ Take me away_ and _I’m not jealous_ over and over. 

“I hate you! So does everyone else here!” The child spits at him. “I hate this place and I hate you!”

Laurent waits until he doesn’t hear Nicaise’s steps down the hall. He takes a second to collect himself, then leaves the library and heads straight for his brother’s abandoned quarters. He opens the doors and stared at the unmade bed, the unopened wine that’s been there for years now, the letter he had been writing before he left, and all the other little things. Laurent refused to let the room be touched after the passing of his brother. It was all he had left of him.

He walks to the foot of the bed, sitting down slowly on it. With trembling hands he reaches behind him, grabbing one of Auguste’s old pillows. He pulls it to him, pressing his face to it as scalding hot tears roll down his face. Sometimes, when he thinks hard enough, he can still imagine Auguste’s hugs and the way he would quietly soothe Laurent.

“I wish you were here.” He says shakily into the empty room. “_I wish you were here._”

**Author's Note:**

> oof,,, anyways! if you liked this please leave me a comment, i love to read them! also if you have any captive prince stuff you’d like me to write lmk! i love writing for capri i just never know what to write,,,  
anyways, thank you for reading!!!


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